Ubara of Gor Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: A Game of Slaves

Yishana was deep in slumber, her soft body curled up next to mine on the deck of the Larl as we were maybe ten minutes away from the first rays of dawn. Naomi, our first girl was already up and was walking around the mast with the key to our ankle fetters, for each night we slept secured to a coffle chain that was in turn locked to the mast. No soft bed with rich furs and silken sheets for Yishana last night, rather just the hard wooden boards and some cheap hessian sack cloth for a covering. She slept with the slaves you see, for she wore a collar now and was assumed to be a slave. But her ordeal last night had worn her out to the point where sleep came easy I think. I lay next to her, partly because I was used to doing so often when I shared the couch bed in her cabin, but also to look after her, for the proud pirate Queen was very much out of her depth as a slave-girl. She dreamt delicious dreams no doubt for her body twitched at times, her fingers grasped at thin air, and when I touched them I could feel that her nipples were aroused. She dreamt of men perhaps – strong men, men who knew how to treat Yishana, the Ubara of the Black Coast, as but a common slave-girl. I listened to her contented sigh as she dreamt, lost in her delicious fantasies and oblivious to the harsh reality that awaited her when she would awake.

The Mistress would never be up at this time of course. This was the time just before dawn rise when slaves would be woken to quietly light the fires, prepare the breakfast, wash themselves, wash the strips of rep cloth that constituted their sole garments, empty the piss pots of the men, clear the detritus on deck from the feasting the night before, and be ready and dutiful, with heads bowed to greet the strong men of the jungle interior as they awoke from their slumber.

I kissed Yishana softly on her nose as she lay curled up beside me. The kiss seemed to intrude pleasantly into the nature of her dreams as she sighed again and pressed herself closer to me for warmth and comfort. Soon, in just a few hours time, Yishana would have worn that steel collar for a full 24 hours. By rights she should now be sleeping in her comfortable bed, having thrown off the pretence of being a slave, but that plan had gone disastrously wrong when Naomi had decreed that the new girl would work and serve until the Mistress returned. But how could the Mistress return while the new girl wore a collar and served on board the Larl? This couldn't continue indefinitely, if only because the crew would soon become anxious by the absence of Yishana. When it became apparent that she hadn't returned last night there would be consternation on board ship and large numbers of Askaris would no doubt be despatched into the port city of Asperiche to go looking for her. Pirate Queen she might be, but things can happen to free women if they are reckless in a city such as this.

Naomi was crouched down nearby, freeing Falala's ankle. She had tapped the girl on the shoulder with a switch, for the girl had still been curled up beneath her thin wrap of sack cloth. I thought it best to wake Yishana before Naomi did, and so I shook her gently. She stirred, moaning, not happy at being woken like this. She sleep encrusted eyes fluttered open, and for a few moments she perhaps thought she was waking in her soft bed. But then realisation dawned. She was collared, she lay on the deck of her ship with a coffle chain about her left ankle. It was real.

Yishana moaned softly as she felt the chain move as she moved.

“Keep quiet,” I whispered. “Say nothing. The men are still asleep. Naomi will beat you if you make a noise that wakes them.”

“I still wear the collar!” Yishana looked fearful.

“Yes you do.” I held Yishana and allowed her to press her head against me. This had all gone horribly wrong for her. But she was Yishana, and she managed to steady her breathing from the sudden panic attack that had gripped her. It is normal for women to have panic attacks early in their slavery. It is particularly common when they wake up in the morning and come to understand that the new day will be much like the previous day, and that they will not be freed, they will not be treated with dignity and respect. A woman wakes up to remember with horror that she is now a slave, and that it wasn't just a bad dream.

“I have to get to my cabin!” said Yishana. “I have to remove this collar, put on robes and be free!”

“There will be a way. We will think of something. Until then be strong.”

“I am Yishana. Yishana is strong.”

“No,” I said firmly, “you cannot think that you are Yishana. You must think you are Mina. Yishana will only get you into trouble.” I traced the whip marks on her body. “You know that. If you let Yishana assume control, she will only get you beaten or worse.”

“Worse?”

“Yes, Mina, worse. Naomi is close to exploding with you. One more infraction – just one more – anything really – and it will be the box for you.”

“The box?” Yishana bit her lower lip. She didn't know what that was, but she could see from my eyes it wasn't good.

“A slave box. A small wooden one in which a stubborn girl is placed. It is small enough that she cannot stretch out within it. Very soon cramps set in through all the muscles in your body. Very soon it becomes crippling pain without end. I have seen girls in the box before, Mina. In other places. In the slave pens in Patashqar. It was truly horrible. They screamed and screamed and begged and pleaded that they would do anything to be let out of the box.”

Yishana shivered in my arms where she lay. She knew I was speaking the truth.

“We do not have a slave box on board the Larl.”

“Naomi has said one will be built. It was Tijani's idea. He believes the sight of it on deck will be good for slave discipline.”

“What am I going to do, Emma?”

“You need to be Mina. You can't be Yishana. Mina is obedient. Yishana is a rebel. Forget Yishana – push that girl to the back of your mind. Lock her away in some dark recess of your brain. Let Mina out. Mina is the slave-girl who hides inside each of us. She is usually locked away for fear of what she may make us do. But now is not the time to lock her away, Mistress. Now you must let Mina out. You must let Mina be in control. Do you understand?”

“I can't be Mina,” sobbed Yishana. “Mina is a submissive slut who crawls to men under the threat of the whip.”

“Mina will keep you alive and free from the whip and the box. She will know what to do. It is instinctive within her. Give yourself over to Mina.”

“What if Mina becomes too strong? What if Mina will not surrender herself to Yishana and meekly hide herself away again?”

“That is a problem for another time. For now you must give Mina her freedom. There is no other way.”

“I am Mina...” said Yishana softly in despair.

“Yes, only Mina.”

“And Mina is a slave-girl...”

“Yes, Mina is a submissive and obedient slave-girl who wishes to please men. Tell me you wish to please men, Mina.”

“I wish to please men, Emma,” said Yishana softly.

“Use your name.”

“Mina wishes to serve and please men, Emma.”

“Good.” I kissed Yishana on her nose again. “Then do so.”

“Are you going to give me any trouble today, Mina?” Asked Naomi as she stood above us with the coffle chain key in her right hand.

“No Mistress,” said Yishana as she dropped quickly into obeisance with her head pressed to the deck and her hands beside her head. She remembered to raise her ass, marked as it was with several red stripes.

I led Yishana to the rear of the ship where several of the other girls were already lowering buckets on ropes down into the water.

“Strip,” I said simply as I removed my own shift of white rep cloth from around my hips.

“Why?”

“Because I said so. Because you smell like a well fucked slut, and first thing in the morning before the men wake up we wash.” I watched as Yishana raised her right arm and sniffed her armpit.

I nodded. “We all smell like well fucked sluts this morning. No surprise there. The men expect us to be fresh and pleasing when they wake up. Take a bucket and help fill the tub.” The tub in question was a low sided wooden tub big enough to stand in and maybe two feet deep. It was being filled with cold sea water one bucket at a time and once ready we would take it in turns to crouch down in the water and scrub ourselves clean. I made sure Yishana hauled up water with the rest of the girls because I could see Naomi was watching her for any sign that the new slave might be slacking. When it was Yishana’s turn she stepped into the briny water and crouched down. I handed her a scrubbing brush and a cake of cheap soap and then with a clay pitcher I began to scoop up sea water from the tub and poured it over her body. I was careful not to pour it over her head for fear the dye might run. Yishana squealed a little as she was soaked in cold sea water and I told her to be quiet.

“The men are still sleeping, Mina.” She lathered herself with the soap and then scrubbed away with the bristle brush.

The first rays of dawn were beginning to creep over the horizon when Yishana was finished. Her rep cloth had been thrown onto a pile with the ones belonging to the other girls. She ran towards the fabric, soaking wet, cold, clutching her arms about her body, teeth chattering. We towelled ourselves mostly dry with clean towels of sack cloth.

“I’m hungry,” said Yishana.

“We will eat after the men do.” I saw her reach for one of the strips of rep cloth to cover her loins but I shook my head. “They’re dirty. We wash our garments each morning. Refill your bucket and launder the rep cloth then hang it to dry.”

“What do I wear in the meantime?”

“Nothing. It's your only garment. When it’s wind dried you can wear it again.”

Yishana simmered with rage, not used to having her sex exposed like this in front of men when she wasn't under the influence of her battle drugs.

“This is what we do,” I said. “This is what Mina will do.”

Two of the girls were cleaning out the stoves, filling them with fresh wood and lighting them again while another girl began preparing food for breakfast. Yishana was the newest girl in our coffle and the newest girl in the coffle was always put to collecting and emptying the many piss pots that lay about the deck close to the sleeping men. They were heavy ceramic things and I sent Yishana to find each one, carry it to the side of the ship and empty the contents into the harbour. Then she was expected to rinse and scrub each one clean in the tub we had used for bathing. This meant of course emptying the bathing water, refilling it with many more heavy buckets of sea water, and then finally when each piss pot was scrubbed clean, emptying the tub and scrubbing that clean as well as we would want to bathe in it again tomorrow morning.

“The men are beginning to stir from their sleep,” I said to Yishana as she scrubbed frantically at each pot in turn. “You need to work quicker than that. They will want their pots back when get up because the first thing they will want to do is piss,” I said. I watched Yishana as she ran, naked, on bare feet, back and forth, carrying the heavy pots, returning them to each group of sleeping men. She was breathing heavily from the constant running back and forth and the raising of buckets of sea water from the harbour because each bucket was heavy and, once dirty, the water needed to be replenished. Normally of course she would still be sleeping in on her soft warm couch in her cabin.

I do not think Yishana was enjoying some of the harsh realities of being a slave-girl.

If Yishana thought she might be able to rest after the last pot was washed, scrubbed clean and returned, she was mistaken, for the men were now awake and they wanted their breakfast. They sat in small groups and Yishana was assigned to serve one such group of her warriors.

“You take a pot of cooked porridge, bowls, a water jug, bread, and fruit and you serve them while they eat,” I said. I would do the same with one of the other groups. “But first wash your hands and scrub them clean. You cant handle food after scrubbing piss pots clean.”

“May I wrap my strip of rep cloth about my hips?” asked Yishana, glancing at the washing line where it hung with the others.

“Is it dry?” I said with an expression that suggested this was a rhetorical question.

“No, I do not think so…”

“Then no, you can’t. You serve naked as will the rest of us, Mina.”

Yishana gazed at the men who sat together cross legged on the deck. She knew them all, but they did not see the Ubara of the Black Coast when they now looked at her, they only saw a new slave-girl with highly desirable auburn hair.

“Just watch how I serve, and copy,” I said. “And for now just look meek and respectful. You’re Mina, remember.”

I watched as she approached the group of Askaris, knelt in nadu and introduced herself as she laid out the serving pot, stack of bowls, and other items. I think one of the men in her group had been one of the six Askaris who had won her use the night before and he well remembered her. Laughing, he told his friends about the experience.

“I put her to use in the sacking. Thrust onto her belly she gave me pleasure, didn’t you, girl?” He spanked Yishana’s ass playfully and made her jump.

“Yes Master,” she said, “you did.”

“She was a tight little fuck,” said the Askari as he reached out and placed his hand on her sex. “Almost white silk tight. Or maybe I’m just too big for her!” the men laughed at that as Yishana looked mortified by the comments. She was after all used to men and women pleasuring her to her exact precise requirements if at all. Rarely had she been penetrated by anything more than a tongue.

“What is your purpose in life, girl?” asked the man.

“To give pleasure to men, Master,” said Yishana.

The men formed a circle where they sat and Yishana was made to serve them in the middle of that circle. The men would touch her as they ate and more than once Yishana would be pulled on to the lap of one of them. The men seemed particularly curious and delighted by her hair and they would stroke it, twist it in their hands and in one case even taste it. Yishana was pressed down on to her back and an Askari poured some porridge over her breasts to then eat from her as if she was a plate. I was serving in a similar fashion although I myself hadn't been pressed onto my back and used like that. I tried to keep an eye on Yishana as I was worried her pride might make her do something stupid, and with Naomi close to the end of her patience with the girl, that would lead to awful consequences. I wondered how much Yishana could actually take before she did finally reveal who she was. The prospect of doing so obviously horrified her, for even the sequential rape at the hands of the Askaris last night hadn't pushed her to that nuclear option. I began to wonder whether she could even reveal her true identity now after all that had happened. Last night she had been fucked as a slave-girl and she had responded, or rather her body had responded as a slave-girl. Her piteous moans of orgasm had been real enough and had elicited laughter from the men as they had used her one at a time. They had made her cry out 'la kajira', with the threat of being beaten if she did not. They had even made her pose in certain degrading positions before the pools of lantern light, displaying her abundant charms while they drank and gambled with dice.

Imagine now if Yishana told the crew who she was? No doubt they would believe her – that wasn't the issue – but they would know she had the sexual responses of a slave. And she had cried out 'la kajira'. That means 'I am a slave-girl' in Gorean. Now that itself is an interesting matter, for in crying out 'I am a slave-girl' there can be two very different meanings. If you are an actual slave-girl, the phrase is a simple statement of fact. You after all wear a collar, you are probably branded, and papers of enslavement have been drawn up on you. You are legally a piece of property and so the phrase is simple in its meaning. But imagine you are a free woman who says that? The meaning now is very different - you as a free woman are proclaiming yourself a slave. Merchant law views this as a proclamation of self-enslavement. A woman who might for example stand before a man and say those words would in a sense be legally enslaving herself. Such a statement cannot be retracted and so it is a very dangerous thing to say.

In a sense, without realising it, for she was hardly cognoscente of what she was doing last night, Yishana effectively spoke words of enslavement. I was thrilled and startled at the realisation that, although she didn't know it, Yishana was now an actual slave! She had enslaved herself!

I looked upon her again. No doubt she still thought of herself as free, but in the eyes of Gorean law, her freedom had ended the moment she had spoken those words. Yishana was a legal piece of property now.

I thought it best not to tell her this.

Furthermore, the self-enslavement had been adequately witnessed by the crew. The men had heard her. They had no doubt she had spoken the words. Of course it was their understanding that she was already a slave, not a free woman, and so the words had no particular importance. But if it transpired that they found out she was free, then they would realise she had proclaimed a transition to slavery.

Goreans can be very inflexible on such matters. It is no good saying you did not mean those words. There is no taking them back. A woman who says 'la kajira' instantly becomes a slave.

And let us consider the nature of her divine status amongst the Askaris. She was the chosen one – the living Avatar of the Goddess incarnate on Gor. But would a Goddess inhabit the body of a woman with slave responses? A woman who might secretly be a natural slave, and one who might cry out, 'la kajira!' in the heat of her passions? Of course not. It is unthinkable. So how then could a woman who submitted to a slave orgasm be the chosen avatar of the Goddess? At worst she never was, and at best surely the divine spirit would have left her the moment she succumbed to such degrading feelings, never to return? In either case it can be concluded that Yishana was no longer divine (if ever she had been) and that she was now just simply a girl on Gor who had proclaimed herself slave before Free Men.

I do not think Yishana had given any thought to his, for her mind was no doubt in turmoil and she was hardly able to grasp the enormity of what was happening to her minute by minute, let alone the further ranging implications. But I had thought about it and I now feared that she had no easy way out of her situation by declaring she was in actual fact Yishana. Might the men who had worshipped her for years feel angry and cheated when they understood the truth? Would they perhaps kill her? Or if not kill her, enslave her for real, promoting one of their own to assume command of the Larl instead. Would she then find herself in the harshest slavery possible, living amongst men who hated her and lusted after her in equal measure? That would be the most terrible slavery of all, and one far worse than her current situation. So no, I feared Yishana could never dare to reveal the truth after the way she had behaved last night.

“I see an improvement in the little slut,” said Naomi as she stood beside me with the slave crop resting against her thigh where she held it in her right hand.

“I think so, Mistress,” I said. “I think she is beginning to understand the reality of her slavery.”

“Discipline always does that,” she said with a smile. “A girl who fears the whip quickly strives to be pleasing. It is a hard lesson but necessary in the early days.”

“That is true, Mistress.” I did not think Naomi was a bad First Girl. She was as strict as was necessary to maintain discipline on board ship. I wouldn't call her cruel. She had punished Yishana severely, but from her view point it had been necessary. Yishana was a new slave, recently collared, who dared to challenge her authority. A first girl cannot allow that to happen. I suppose I would have reacted much the same if Yishana had been conveyed in a collar to Brinn's estate and had behaved in the way she had. I would have had little choice. Aside from my own feelings, I would probably have been replaced as first girl if Brinn had thought I was incapable of maintaining discipline. So it would be with Naomi.

“You performed well at the Slave Wharf, Emma.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“Do not let it go to your head, pretty little white slut, but I am glad you are a slave on board the Larl.” She ruffled my hair with her free hand. “We all like you. You're one of us now. The Mistress seems to like you too.”

“I think she does, yes.”

“After what I saw in your pen at the Slave Wharf yesterday, I think I can understand why.”

I glanced at Naomi again, secretly pleased with the praise. She understood my value and did not resent me for it. Yes, I think she was actually a very good first girl. I think she would look after her girls, provided they did her bidding.

“Tijani will take Mina into the port today. She will be gone for several ahn,” said Naomi. “When she returns she will be excused duties tonight.”

“Why is that, Mistress?” I was surprised to hear this. I didn't object, for it would make things easier if Yishana wasn't forced to endure another night of servitude again while we tried to return her quietly to her cabin where she might then reappear as the pirate queen. It seemed an unusually kind thing for Naomi to say.

“I am not a cruel first girl. I understand she will be in pain, and so I will allow her to lie quietly tonight and not be disturbed.”

“Pain? Is she to be whipped again? She serves as well as can be expected, bearing in mind how new she is to the collar?” My mind was still considering the problem of how to sneak Yishana back to her cabin. It wasn't going to be easy because our movements as slave-girls were constantly being watched. She couldn't for example simply run to the cabin and lock herself inside. Even if she managed to do that without being caught running by an Askari who might for example seize her by her wrist, cuff her about the face and send her sprawling back to the main deck to be properly reprimanded, she would not be allowed to remain in the cabin for very long. If she slid the bolt, men would break the door down. And even if she dressed herself in the robes of Yishana, they would know it was simply the slave-girl Mina trying to steal her Mistress's clothes while she was away. It would be the slave box for her, I think, and a vicious whipping at the hands of the Askaris.

Yes, it was going to be a problem, but given enough time I felt sure we would think of something. Just how much time though was the unknown factor.

“No, she is not going to be whipped, Emma,” said Naomi. “As you say, she is trying her best.”

“Then why will she be in pain, Mistress?” I must have looked confused.

“Haven't you noticed by now, Emma? Mina is so new to the collar that she hasn't been branded yet. Tijani will rectify that later on today at a meal smith's inside the port. Obviously Mina will be in pain after it is done.”

Naomi was going to arrange for Yishana to be branded! Suddenly the situation had ramped up to Defcon One. Any thought of biding our time until Yishana could slip away into her cabin and change was gone. We now had a narrow window of opportunity before Yishana would be taken back into Asperiche to be handed over to a metal worker and a brand placed on her naked thigh. This was as bad as it could possibly get. A brand is permanent. A collar can be unlocked and removed but there is no escaping the brand once it is seared into your flesh. I gazed at Yishana as she was clearing up the breakfast bowls. She had no idea what Naomi had in mind for her. And if I told her she would undoubtedly panic, fight, and ruin any chance of finding a way out of this predicament.

“Is that wise, Mistress?” I asked as my my brain searched for a solution. “Perhaps we should wait until the Ubara returns?”

“Why? She doesn’t arrange brands for her girls personally.”

“She may have a particular brand in mind for Mina. We should perhaps not presume to know what the Mistress prefers.”

“She always brands girls with the common kef brand. You know that Emma. It’s the brand you have and we all wear it on the Larl. She’s not going to want some other brand for Mina.”

“We don’t know how good the metal workers are in Asperiche. Perhaps we should have Mina branded in a large city where superior artisans may be found?”

“It’s just a brand not a request for a metal worker to craft a perfect sword. What’s got into you, Emma? Any metal worker can brand a girl. It’s not that difficult.”

“But…” I was trying to think of some other coherent argument I might make.

“Mina will be taken into Asperiche and seen to today. I don’t have time for this, Emma. Don’t you have chores to see to?” And with that I was dismissed. What was I going to do? If I told Yishana what was in store for her she would likely make a run for it now and be brought down in seconds by the Askaris. A whipping would follow and then she would still be taken into Asperiche to see the metal worker. This was a crisis of epic proportions for her.

I walked slowly towards where Yishana was stacking the porridge bowls. What was I going to do? What was I going to say?

“Emma, have you thought of anything?” Yishana had wrapped the strip of white rep cloth about her hips and was adjusting the hanging end of the garment between her thighs. “I need to get into my cabin.”

“I know, I know.” And she had to do it soon before Tijani took her into the town. “Have you had any ideas?”

“A distraction perhaps? Something to draw the attention of the men. And Naomi. She watches me like a hungry sleen.” Yishana glanced round and sure enough Naomi had noticed the two of us talking. She frowned thinking perhaps we were being lazy.

“Start picking up things,” I whispered. “We can’t be seen to just be standing around while the other girls work.” I started things off by picking up a length of rope left carelessly on the deck and began winding it into a coil over my left arm as we talked. Yishana followed suit and began to wash the timber rail on the starboard side of the ship with a bucket of soapy water.

“This is a crowded ship during the day. The distraction would have to keep everyone occupied for the time it took you to get into the cabin. You only need one person to see what you’re doing and it’s all over. There are just too many sets of eyes here.”

“I was thinking of tonight them once it gets dark. I will endure this collar and the chores throughout the day and then when night falls we will think of a distraction that enables me to sneak into the cabin. That’s our best chance.”

Yeah, except that by tonight you’ll be branded. What was I going to say to her?

“We can’t wait until tonight, Mina.”

“Why not? I can bear this a while longer. I am Yishana. I am not some weak free woman who cries piteously when she is stripped.

“The, uh, the men might use you during the day.”

Yishana bristled at the thought of it. She had been used by a couple of the Askaris last night in addition to Tijani during the day in the chain wharf. “It’s not the worst thing that could happen,” said Yishana quietly.

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. “You don’t mind if an Askari drags you to the side of the ship and fucks you?”

“Of course I mind! I am Yishana! No man should dare to touch me! But…” she glanced round wistfully at the tall powerfully built black warriors with their muscled torsos, “if I have no choice… if they simply seize me and take me and put me to use for their pleasure…”

“Think of your dignity.”

“My dignity has already been abused, Emma.”

“Mina… do you actually want an Askari to have sex with you again?”

“No! Of course not!” Her cheeks flushed. “Don’t be ridiculous Emma. Don’t be so crude!”

“Well, it’s just that you don’t seem to be too worried about the prospect.”

Yishana said nothing.

“There is something you need to know, but you have to promise me not to panic or do anything rash. We will find a way round this, but if you react now the men will probably restrain you.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Yishana.

“You have to promise me first that you won't make a scene. It's very important.”

“Of course. I am Yishana. I do not panic.”

“Naomi told me that you’re going to be taken back into the town of Asperiche today.”

Yishana shrugged. “Maybe it will afford me an opportunity to slip away, return to the chain wharf and change back into the clothes I left there.”

“Well, not exactly as you’ll be travelling under close supervision. I suspect you will be on a leash, possibly with your wrists braceleted.”

“Why? We don’t normally have that level of security for girls taken into town. Is this a shopping trip for supplies?”

“Not exactly. Look, there’s no easy way of saying this, but you have to promise me you won’t react?”

“Tell me.”

“Mina, they’re going to take you to a metal worker.”

“I don’t understand. Why do I need a…” and then the penny dropped. “No…” she looked ashen faced. “No!” And there it was – Yishana started to scream. Immediately every head on the ship turned to look at her as she staggered back against the starboard rail, realisation dawning that she was going to be branded today. “No!” she screamed again.

“Be quiet!” I hissed, but it was too late. Already men were gathering to see what the commotion was. Naomi hurried over to us with two of her preferred girls at her side.

“What’s going on?” she snapped. Seeing the way Yishana was looking she guessed right away that I had told her about the branding. “Slaves have a brand on their left thigh, girl,” she said to Yishana, “You’re not going to be an exception.”

Yishana looked at me in horror, somehow hoping I might say or do something on the spot that would end this, but I couldn’t think of a single thing.

“Are you going to be troublesome, Mina?” asked Naomi as she brought her face up against Yishana’s. “Will I need to put you in close chains?”

“No Mistress…” said Yishana in a hoarse voice. She was intelligent enough and still in control to know any hope she had now rested on her not being in close chains or securely guarded.

“We’ve all had to endure the brand,” said Naomi. “I’m not going to pretend it won’t hurt, but it has to be done. You’re a slave and you will wear a slave brand on your left thigh. Do you understand me, Mina?”

Yishana nodded, almost mute with shock. This seemed to placate Naomi to a degree but I could see she still sensed that now that Yishana was aware of her fate, she might turn out to be a flight risk.

“I’m not sure I can trust you, Mina. You have an insolent rebellious air about you.” Naomi took hold of Yishana by her hair and pulled the girl down to her knees. “You say the right things but I can sense you aren’t sincere. I think you’re a flight risk, Mina. I think you might do something foolish.”

“No Mistress, Mina fears the whip,” said Yishana in a very convincing manner. But yes, I could sense what Naomi could sense – there was too much of the free woman who believed she was a Goddess in Yishana for her truly to act convincing as a repentant and meek slave. Of course I knew the reason why she was like this but as far as Naomi was concerned Mina was simply new to her collar and prone to do something reckless like attempt to run.

“I’m not going to take a chance with you, girl. Report to Tijani and tell him you are to be chained. Go!” With that Naomi slapped Yishana hard on her bare ass. Yishana stumbled a step or two forward, catching herself with her hands against the deck as she grimaced from the indignity of the dismissing blow. Naomi hardly bothered to look back as she walked now to make arrangements for the shore party that would soon be escorting the new girl to the metal worker.

“Emma, I can’t let them chain me!”

She was right of course. Once she was in chains there would be no hope for her. In fact there was no hope for her. It was over. There was nowhere she could run to or hide on board this ship. She would be chained, she would be put on a leash and she would be taken into the city to receive a slave brand. And then Yishana’s days of freedom would be over.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s nothing we can do now. This was a dreadful mistake and you’re going to pay the price. I really am sorry.” I couldn't think of anything I could do.

“I’m not going to let them brand me!”

“You don’t have any choice. Look, Naomi is speaking with Tijani now.” I saw him nod, glance back to where Yishana was talking to me, and then he headed to the rear of the ship where we kept a couple of boxes of slave chains. “It’s over.” I touched her shoulder with my hand. “You could try telling them who you are but I think events have gone far past the point where that would help.”

“I will fight,” said Yishana as she balled her hands into fists. “I will not submit to the brand!”

“You’ll be brought down by the other girls and then you’ll be whipped. It’s over, Mina. I will help you through the early days of your slavery. I will do my best for you.”

“You are such a stupid slave. Do you honestly think I will lie down and accept this? I am the Ubara of the Black Coast,” she hissed. “I am going to dive from the ship, swim to the wharf and run.”

I sighed. “The alarm will be sounded even if you make it over the rail. Men on the wharf will be waiting to pick you out of the water as soon as you reach the harbour side. And even if you somehow got past them, where would you run to in a collar?”

“The chain wharf. My clothes are still there upstairs remember? I can dress as a free woman again. Then I will return to the Larl as if nothing has happened.”

“You’ll be seen making a run to the rail. It’s impossible. You'll never get past the wharf when the alarm is raised.”

“Not impossible, because you will create a distraction, Emma. You will pick a fight with Naomi. As soon as you do that every girl on this ship will move to help her, and all the men will be distracted for the time it will take me to slip into the water. If I’m not seen there won’t be an alarm raised and I’ll swim quietly to a secluded spot under the jetty. From there I can make my way to a hiding place and wait until it gets dark.”

“Are you insane? I’m sorry, Mina, I know this is going to be horrible for you, but there is no way I’m picking a fight with Naomi. I would be subject to the mother of all punishments.”

“I’m ordering you to,” said Yishana.

“Mina, in case you haven’t noticed, you don’t have any authority anymore. I feel sorry for you, but you’re no longer in any position to tell me what to do.”

“You will do as I say, Emma.”

“No I won’t. I’m not going to attack Naomi for you. I’m sorry you're going to be a slave but as the saying goes, be very careful what you wish for.”

“Emma, you must do this for me.”

“No!” How many times did I have to say this? I was getting annoyed now. And I could see Tijani returning with a set of ankle chains in one hand. “Anyway, time’s running out. You’ll be in ankle chains in a few minutes, Mina. Accept the fact you’re going to be a slave for real.”

“Do this for me and I swear I’ll personally deliver you back to the Sardar, back to your children.”

“What?” I stared at Yishana.

“I will do that for you, Emma. You will be with your children again. Is that not worth the suffering you will endure today? I swear to you on the name of the Goddess. Give me my freedom, save me from the branding iron and you will be reunited with Marik and Jacinta. They will have their mother back. I swear this.”

Oh God… I swallowed hard as Tijani sat on a barrel adjusting the number of links in the ankle chain configuration he would lock on Yishana in a moment’s time.

Marik, Jacinta…

“I swear an oath, Emma. A sacred oath. But you must decide now. There isn't any more time left. How much do you love your children? What will you do to be reunited with them? This is your only chance. You know that. Your only chance to be with them again.”

I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth and prepared myself for a fuck storm of fuck storm proportions.

I ran, screaming loud enough for everyone on the Larl to turn round at the sound of my voice. I ran at Naomi and launched myself at her back as she began turning to face me. I brought her down hard onto the deck and smacked my fist into her face before she could do anything.

“Slut!” I screamed loud enough to wake the dead. “Keep your hands off my master, you fucking slut!”

Pandemonium broke out on the deck. Men stared in astonishment as a number of the girls loyal to Naomi moved like lightning towards me. I was expecting this of course and I leapt off Naomi, grabbed a stave from a pile by the starboard rail and thumped it into Imani’s stomach as she ran at me. The poor girl doubled up with a scream and fell to the deck as I then swung round with the stave and clocked Asha on the head, knocking her over too.

The repercussions for this were going to be horrendous. Naomi was lifting herself up and so I threw the stave at her. She went down with a bloodied face and now I ran further along the deck like some wild dervish, hotly pursued by other slaves. I had tunnel vision and had no idea where Yishana might be. If she wasn’t taking full advantage of all of this chaos then I’d be lucky to get away with my life.

I ran maybe seven yards before the first of the girls tackled me and brought me down hard onto the deck. There was a compete cat fight then as I decided to at least buy as much time as I could, hissing, spitting, biting, scratching, using all my pent up adrenalin to go wild as multiple hands seized hold of my wrists and ankles. By now everyone on the ship would be concentrating on what I was doing, and I was really going to suffer for it. I felt my head lifted by my hair and then Naomi was there, blood and snot on her face and she punched me hard once, twice, three times. My head reeled as she swore at me. I was dragged screaming towards the mast and I kicked out again with my left leg that momentarily became free. I was thrown hard against the mast, belly first and even as I attempted to twist and turn round, I felt my wrists drawn round the curved sides of the mast and lashed to slave rings. I felt my ankles drawn apart and lashed to slave rings set either side of the mast base. This was going to be truly horrible now.

“You are going to suffer for this!” screamed Naomi into my ear as she raked both sets of nails down my back. I felt her step back and receive a whip from one of the other girls, wiping the blood from her face with her free hand. And then it began. I lost count of the strokes of the heavy Gorean lash after the twenty third blow. Sometime then I vomited, spewing up down the front of the mast where I hung helplessly. My back felt like I had been dragged for ten miles across loose gravel. I was then cut down from my bindings. My legs were unable to support me and I hit the deck hard. Girls began kicking me in the side and I curled up into a ball, feeling my body twist erratically in an attempt to minimise the impact. A girl emptied a bucket of cold sea water over me because I wasn’t to be permitted the mercy of unconsciousness. Naomi was on me again, pressing me down with her thighs as she landed two more punches in my face.

Marik, Jacinta, Marik, Jacinta was the mnemonic in my head that I kept hold of as sharp daggers of pain shot through every part of my body. My son, my daughter…

I felt weightless as several sets of hands lifted me from the bloodied deck.

“That’s enough,” said Tijani suddenly. His stern voice had the desired effect and every slave who was currently beating me ceased immediately and turned instead to face him. “Any more blows and you’re likely to kill her. If she is slain that will be the decision of masters, not slaves.”

Naomi nodded and withdrew from where I lay, blood still dripping from her nose and mouth. “You saw what she did, Master.”

“We all did. And it was very uncharacteristic of Emma. What was that she accused you about her 'master'? She hasn’t got one. She’s a ship girl, as you all are. What was she talking about?”

“I have no idea, Master,” said Naomi. “Do you wish to ask her?”

Tijani stood beside me and nudged me with his right foot. “Emma, are you alive?”

“Yes…” it hurt to talk. It hurt to do anything.

“What were you accusing Naomi of?”

“Doesn’t… matter…” I strained to say the words.

“There is something not right about this,” said Tijani as he gazed about the ship. “Emma is a trusted slave. This doesn’t feel right.” He could sense that there was more to my sudden psychotic episode than met the eye.

“She struck the first girl, Master,” said Naomi. “I cannot let that stand.”

“Of course. What do you wish to do with her? You cannot kill her remember.”

“Box her,” said Naomi as she wiped the blood from her face again.

“I will not stop you,” said Tijani. He gazed about he deck again, deep in thought. Something here wasn’t right. He could sense it, but the absence of Yishana had yet to be noticed by anyone.

Slave hands plucked me from the deck and I was carried towards an empty rain water barrel, lifted up and dropped inside. The barrel is big enough to fit a man or woman but only if she has her legs drawn up. There is not enough room to stand and certainly not enough room to stretch out. I heard air holes being drilled into the loose top of the barrel before it was then replaced and nailed shut. I was trapped in the barrel drawing in what little stale air I could from the air holes. Very soon the temperature in the barrel would become stifling hot as it stood in the direct sun light and muscle cramps would begin to set in. I was conscious enough to scream loudly before any of that happened though for I remembered still the horror of being trapped in the punishment hole in Banu Hashim so many years ago. I screamed because this is my nightmare, to be trapped in a confined space hardly able to move. I screamed and I screamed and my cries must have sounded horrifying for suddenly I heard the nails being ripped from the barrel with a claw hammer and the lid violently torn free. It was Simon. He had broken the seal and now he was pulling my trembling body from the cramped space.

“You can’t do this to her,” he said. “This is her worst nightmare. She would rather die than suffer a narrow confinement like this.”

“The first girl has the right to discipline the slaves,” said Tijani.

“Not like this. No, this is too much. You have no idea.” He clutched my broken body to his, supporting me in place of my own legs that could no longer bear my weight.

“Simon…” said Tijani.

“No. Emma has been through too much in the past. Find anther punishment. She will not suffer this way.”

“You are not in charge, Simon,” said Tijani.

“I saved your life. This is the payment I ask in return. Whip her again if you must, but not this.” He pressed my head to his chest and I put my arms about his waist to aid myself in standing. I would have gone mad in that barrel. It would have ended me.

“Thank you..” I whispered and kissed Simon's chest. “Thank you, Master.”

“Very well.” Tijani didn’t look happy but he accepted the verdict from Simon. “The punishment is suspended, Naomi. Speak with the Ubara when she returns.”

Simon carried me in his arms to the side of the ship where he lay me down on some canvas. He brought water and a sponge and began to clean the vivid weals left by the whipping. He checked my body for broken bones and found none and all the while he told me that I was safe, that no one was going to harm me.

Half an hour later the absence of the new slave, Mina, was discovered and then all hell broke out on board the Larl.

“Where is she?!” yelled Tijani as I lay limp on the sail cloth. “That was a distraction so that Mina could escape? Why would you do that?! Why?!” he had a slave whip in his hand but Simon was trying to reason with him.

“Emma…” Simon looked very worried indeed. “Is this true? Did you aid and abet Mina in escaping?”

“Yes…” my voice sounded cracked and weak. There was no point in lying.

“Step away, Simon,” said Tijani. “This has to be dealt with. This cannot be excused.” Tijani had already despatched men onto the wharf to search the jetty and the neighbouring streets for any sign of a fleeing slave. Mina would be conspicuous of course in her single strip of cloth about her hips and the gleaming steel collar around her neck. What they didn’t know was that she had a destination in mind – the chain wharf where her clothing was bundled in the upper rooms. If she had made it there before anyone had a chance to look for her, then she might now be safe.

“What are you going to do?” said Simon. Tijani had drawn a knife from his belt.

“The punishment for an escaped slave is a whipping. The second time it happens a slave is hamstrung. Emma conspired to aid Mina. She abused a position of trust on board this ship. I’m going to cut the tendons on her legs as a warning to every other girl on the Larl of the Thassa.”

I screamed. Despite my pain, despite my broken body, I screamed as Tijani drew near with the knife. I knew this was a common punishment for second offences and although I had not aided a slave to escape before, what I had done had been premeditated and not simply the spur of a moment recklessness of a girl that was new to her collar. I was too weak to defend myself. I tried to rise on the sail cloth but could barely kneel before my body gave way again.

“Move aside, Simon. I mean it,” said Tijani.

And then Simon punched him. There was a stunned reaction on board deck as Simon delivered a cracking surprise blow that sent Tijani sprawling. It’s sometimes easy to forget that for all his faults Simon is strong, his strength aided by the lower gravity on Gor.

“No one is crippling Emma,” he said as he stood there. He was practically shitting himself now as scowling Askaris formed a semi-circle ring around where I lay with the starboard rail to my back and Simon standing above me, serving as my only defence against savage mutilation. I saw Tijani spit blood and feel for a broken nose as he scrambled back to his feet.

“You know how to hit, Simon,” he said with a scowl.

“No one is going to hurt Emma. No one.” He was shaking now in the way you do when you have a surge of adrenalin but instead of using that adrenalin to fight you simply stand there and it fucks you up. Adrenalin is supposed to aid in fight or flight situations but if you do neither it works against you.

“I don’t want to kill you, Simon,” said Tijani. “But I’m not going to let you hit me again. Step away from the girl.”

“No! You’ll have to come through me.”

“Fine.” Tijani met Simon’s next punch with an effective block and then he drove a knee into Simon’s gut. Simon could hit hard but he wasn’t experienced in close up fighting. Tijani was. But Simon refused to give up. He brought Tijani down in a bear like grip and the two men rolled across the deck with Tijani delivering far more damage than Simon was managing to do. Now Tijani had the upper hand and once he was astride Simon he began raining a sequence of savage punches on the earth-man. Simon had just enough consciousness left to reach with his left hand, grab Tijani’s balls and squeeze hard. Tijani screamed and fell back in agony. Both men were down and it was anyone’s guess who would manage to get to their feet first.

Two Askaris took hold of me as I screamed. They rolled me onto my belly and other hands stretched out my legs ready to have the tendons cut. Tijani rose in agony to his feet and took two paces towards me before he felt Simon’s hand clamp hard on his ankle.

“Stay down!” he snarled as he kicked Simon in the side of the head.

“Leave… Emma…alone...”

Tijani kicked him hard again. Now Simon looked almost as bloodied as I did.

Tijani hobbled towards me with his sleen knife and then there was the sound of a spear scraping on the deck as somehow Simon pulled himself up and brandished that spear in his trembling hands.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” said Tijani as he stared at Simon. “You can barely stand.” It was true. There and then Simon dropped to his knees but with a loud groan of pain he used the butt of the spear to lift himself up one last time.

“Leave… Emma… alone…”

Tijani simply reached over, pulled the spear from Simon’s weak grasp, rotated it so it was now shaft first and struck Simon in the solar plexus with it. Simon went down for the final time. Tijani hobbled painfully towards me and saw Emma, the slave girl lying on her belly repeating the words, ‘la kajira, master, la kajra’ over and over again. He paused.

“Mercy, please, mercy, Master. La kajira!” It was all I could do to simply say that. And Tijani hesitated for it is difficult for men on Gor to mutilate beautiful slaves who beg for mercy. When it comes to the crunch, they hesitate. Tijani hesitated for those precious extra seconds for then we all heard a voice from the other side of the Larl.

“What is going on?” It was Yishana, Yishana, the Ubara of the Black Coast. Everyone turned and saw her standing at the top of the gang plank dressed in her soft robes, bare faced as usual, the dye washed out from her hair that was now braided again, her face clean of make-up, but curiously with a scarf around her neck to hide what I knew was locked about her throat. Her eyes narrowed into the familiar steel hard gaze she had when she thought of herself as divine.

“Emma aided the escape of a slave,” said Tijani. “The slave, Mina. It was a pre-meditated action.”

“I see.” Yishana walked slowly across the deck. “She has been extensively whipped and beaten, I see.”

“Yes. That was for a former offence. She attacked your first girl.”

“Stupid kajira.” Yishana nudged my body with her foot. “But a hamstrung slave does not compensate me for the loss of another slave. Emma is clearly at fault but so are all of you for failing to secure my property adequately!” She rounded on Naomi. “Why was a new slave not kept chained at all times?”

“Mistress…” Naomi looked scared as she dropped to her knees and pressed her forehead to the deck.

“A new girl is always a flight risk! Mina should have had her ankles chained at the very least! And now I have lost her! I expect better of you, Naomi. And all of you…” she rounded on the Askaris. “How could you let a slut of a girl slip past you in broad daylight? Your Goddess is angry. There will be dire consequences.” She glanced down at me. “There will be no hamstringing of this slave. See she is cleaned up and caged. We will talk later and I will reflect on a more suitable punishment for her. As for the rest of you, we sail tomorrow, but until then all shore leave will be cancelled. And there will be no furring of slaves tonight. You have all failed me! Get back to your work.”

The Askaris to a man looked ashamed for they believed they had failed their Goddess. Their heads were lowered as Yishana admonished them. But not Tijani. Tijani was staring at something with considerable interest and when I followed the line of his gaze I realised with a start what that something was. While Yishana spoke she raised her hands to accentuate her words, and as she did so the silken drapes of her sleeves slid back just enough to show her wrists - wrists that bore the unmistakable red marks of recent binding fibre.

A small almost imperceptible smile briefly appeared on Tijani’s face and then just as quickly disappeared. He had seen the binding fibre marks and I think he knew very well what they meant.